


The Lives and Deaths of Remus Lupin

by Murphtang



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Consensual Underage Sex, F/F, F/M, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24755695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murphtang/pseuds/Murphtang
Summary: A series of drabbles recounting the most important parts of Remus Lupin's tragic existence (his words, not mine).Will contain heavier stuff in later chapters. All underage sex is between teenagers of the same age.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus was 4 the first time he died. But something, somewhere kept him alive.

Remus was four the first time he died. When he became Remus, not Remi or un bach, because it was serious. When his mam stopped singing in the kitchen and his da became cold and distant, and he didn't understand because he was four and all he knew was everything hurt and people kept crying. 

He had been dead, he found out later. 3 whole minutes off this plane of existence. In his darker days he sometimes wondered if it shouldn't have been forever. Especially when his survival seemed to have caused so much pain. 

According to medical science, both muggle and wizard, Remus shouldn't have survived. He was sliced from neck to groin, his chest shredded to ribbons. The blood he lost stained the floorboards - they had to be replaced. 200 years those floorboards had survived, only to be taken out by 2 litres of child's blood. Now the small bedroom had cheap lino, sticky and cold on your feet. A constant reminder of what happened. 

5 months in St Mungos. A special ward. Because a monster can't be let out in public, especially in 1964. Chained to the bed as pain - unimaginable, agonising pain - ripped through every inch of his body. Begging, pleading for someone to help. 

But he was dangerous. Tiny, four year old, skinny little Remus was dangerous. His big amber eyes wide, filling with tears, pleading with a small voice in Welsh and English and a mix of the two to the healers who stood by his bedside until the pain really took hold, until his skin started stretching and tearing and everything turned into white hot agony. And he could remember nothing except the burning, and he'd wake up with healers shaking their heads, saying it was a shame he had survived, a tragedy, his poor mother, his depressed alcoholic father. 

So Remus thought sometimes, especially in those early days, that it would be better if Greyback had finished the job. Or, in his particularly dark days, that it would have been better to join the werewolves. 

Of course, that never would have happened. His transformation was a direct act of revenge against his father. A direct retaliation for the policies put in place under his tenure. He wasn't even wanted by the man - monster his father called him, but young Remus didn't want to call him a monster, because then that meant he was a monster - that turned him. 

Once, in a fit of melancholic self-loathing, Remus had asked his father, his da, if he could take him to where the werewolf pack had last been spotted. In hindsight, this may have been when his relationship with Lyall was completely shattered beyond repair. Even at 6 years old, Remus knew what he'd done was beyond forgivable. His father had turned a sickly, dead shade of grey, sworn at length in Welsh, and disappeared for a week. 

Hope had cried. Cried so much Remus had worried she'd flood the world, like Isis flooded the Nile with her tears for Osiris. His mother had always told him stories from mythology, regardless of culture. A romantic at heart, she loved the stories of heartbreak and undying love, even in the face of death himself. 

And perhaps, Remus reflected, on his 16th birthday as he drank the cheap beer Sirius had pilfered from a muggle off-licence with a few charming words and utterly un-Gryffindor slight of hand, his fate had always been written as a tragedy, as a life filled with loss and pain and disappointment. 

But looking into those sparkling granite eyes, brain fogged with cheap booze and teenage lust, Remus thought perhaps it didn't have to be all bad. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Remus finds his family.

It started, as these things often do, with a smile. 

Remus, small and scrawny, in 3rd hand robes at least two sizes too big but somehow still too short in the arms, stood alone in the train corridor. Everything was very loud, very busy, and not at all like his life so far. He had felt it as soon as they'd entered London, hot and sticky in his mother's Mini. 

Lyall had been working. Essential business, Hope called it. Remus knew better. His da didn't want to watch as his scarred, damaged child clambered awkwardly onto the scarlet train. Didn't want to watch as Hope waved a tearful goodbye, hope shining in her golden eyes, so similar to Remus' own. 

But back to that smile. It's owner had a shaggy mop of wild black curls, which seemed to stick up at odd, impossible angles, and was sticking his head out of one of the compartments. 

"Oi, there's space in here. 'specially since you're so little," the boy said, voice brimming with happiness and warmth. The comment on his size should have been insulting, but somehow the boy made it sound like a compliment. 

Ignoring his father's voice echoing in his head - 'keep to yourself, don't talk to anyone. Head down, get on with your work' - Remus nervously walked to the compartment. 

"I'm James," said the smiler. "This is Sirius and Peter. Are you a muggle born? You look nervous! Don't be! My dad said Hogwarts is great. They even have a giant squid!" 

Remus smiled weakly, raising his hand in greeting to the three boys. One was small, pink faced, and blond, looking almost as out of place as Remus. The other looked like he could never look out of place - even as a child Remus recognised aristocracy. 

"Remus," he introduced himself, sitting down nervously next to James. "And my ma - she's a muggle. Da's a wizard though." 

"Oh like Peter! Well, his mum is a witch, his dad was a muggle. Sees a lot of his gran who's a muggle, don't you?" 

The small, pink faced boy - Peter - nodded. That meant the dark haired youth was Sirius. 

"Sirius is a posh boy. I sort of knew him anyway. He's a full blown wizard, like me. His family are all ancient and stuff." 

Sirius gave a small sniff, looking at his nails, which, Remus noted with a slight jolt of shock, and, strangely, jealously, he had painted black. "Yeah, but I reckon wizards are a bit crap. Muggle music is better," Sirius drawled, trying, and, in Remus' humble opinion, utterly failing to sound like he was from the East End. 

"Yeah, he's a rebel, apparently," James said with a laugh. "But I've seen him in his dress robes." 

And that, as far as Remus was concerned, was that. He tried, almost desperately, not to let the three boys become important to him. But all four were sorted into Gryffindor, becoming dormmates. And it is quite impossible not to find yourself caring for people who, for want of a better word, become your family. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Marauders realise that Moony has been keeping a secret. But perhaps not the secret he thought.

Remus was 12 when he finally felt acceptance. 

"Rem, we need to talk." 

Remus swallowed, his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. They knew. They bloody knew he was a monster. Why hadn't he heeded his father's warning? This would be it. Dumbledore had told him, told him so many times, that he couldn't let anyone know what he was. It would ruin his chance to be here. Ruin it completely. 

A gentle hand was on his shoulder, guiding him to sit on the beanbag chairs they'd decked their dorm out in. Remus remembered buying them in Muggle London last summer. Laughing as they each picked out a ridiculous pattern for themselves. James' in a bold paisley print, Sirius' the iconic red punk tartan, Peter's adorned with slightly off Mickey Mouse heads (they assumed copyright was merely a suggestion for Camden vendors), and his own made of the softest brown plush velveteen. 

"Mate, we know." 

It was Sirius who spoke, fiddling with the cigarette he kept behind his ear but never dared to smoke. He'd tried to, once, unsuccessfully, and succumbed to a coughing fit behind greenhouse number 5. James hadn't stopped laughing for weeks. 

"And we don't care," James added, eying Remus carefully, his hazel eyes glinting with determination. 

"You…don't?" Remus asked, lifting his head and meeting his friend's gaze. 

James shook his head. "So what if you're gay? Everyone deserves to be happy. I'm personally shocked and offended you didn't tell us sooner!" 

"What?!" he spluttered, nearly falling off the beanbag. Sirius raised his eyebrow. 

"Yeah, mate, it's fine. Actually it's pretty cool. Subversive, you know?" 

"What did you think we were talking about?" Peter asked, clocking his head to the side, soft Bristol accent filling the room. 

Remus swallowed. Oh. Well, he supposed he was a bit gay. Not completely, because there had been that time he'd seen Mary getting changed, which had had quite an effect on him. But so had seeing Amos getting changed for Quidditch. 

"Oh…Nothing. Nothing, really er…well...it's nice that you're so supportive." 

"He thought it was about the werewolf thing," James said matter of factly, sipping the cup of tea he seemed to have conjured out of nowhere. 

Remus nearly fainted. Sirius let out a bark like laugh and Peter giggled. "Oh mate, we've known about that for about a year. Seemed rude to mention it," Sirius added with a grin, winking at him. 

"But I'm a monster!" Remus almost shrieked, his voice alarmingly high. 

This did not have the impact he thought it might have. In fact, the result was the complete opposite to what he had expected. All three of the boys fell about laughing. 

"Mate, you're about as dangerous as a puffskein!" James wheeze, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus realises he has real, human emotions. They are inconvenient.

Remus was 14 when he fell in love, and fell in love hard. 

He should have known it would happen sooner or later. Should have known it would be Sirius who drove him round the bend. That made it difficult to think, like his brain was full of marshmallow. 

It hadn't dawned on him to be in love with Sirius until one day in transfiguration, when he, once again, was proposing to McGonagall. 

"Minnie, you're breaking my heart!" 

"And you are pushing my patience, Mr. Black. Please concern yourself with the state of your teacup, which currently has a tail. Perhaps Mr. Lupin can give you some pointers." 

The beaming smile which Sirius had shot him made him drop his teacup, his stomach flip flopping dangerously. 

At first he thought he must be ill. Perhaps some of the porridge he'd had for breakfast had been past its best. But then it happened again, in potions. Of course, potions also happened to be Remus' worst subject, so losing one's grip on reality and imagining kissing your best mate's perfect, pouty lips didn't help matters. 

There had been an explosion, and a very purple Slughorn. 

He fought it. Ignored the feelings, pushed them down like he did with everything. But the more he ignored the feelings, the more ridiculous the physical symptoms of his attraction became. 

There was dropping bundles of parchment in the middle of the library, nearly taking out a first year that was unfortunate enough to be in the path of the rolling parchment. That particular incident was caused by Sirius waving at him. 

There was the incident involving spilling an entire pint of butter beer down his front when Sirius gave him a compliment on his cardigan.

There was the time he managed to rip down the drapes around his bed when Sirius clambered in with him, snuggling against him. 

And, of course, there was the launching of an entire pudding across the Great Hall when Sirius looked at him while eating a sausage. 

He was sure Sirius was aware of the effect he was having on him, and he was sure it was a source of great amusement for him. He must know. No one ate like, making eye contact like that, unless they had ulterior motives, Remus was sure of it. Sirius was a terrible flirt, though, with men, women, and McGonagall. 

It was nothing. 

He would not let this ruin his friendship. 

He was not a slave to his emotions and hormones. With just a little bit of self control, he could make this all go away. 

"Give us a kiss goodnight then, Moons!" Sirius shouted across the common room, causing Remus to walk straight into a wall.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys reveal just how much they love their Moony.

When Remus was 15, he realised he was reborn. Into Moony. Officially. 

"We've figured out a solution to your problem!" James said with great enthusiasm, flinging an arm around his shoulder and almost knocking Remus flying. James was short but very dense, thanks to all the muscles he'd managed to build up playing Quidditch incessantly. 

"If this is another blind date, it's not happening. I still can't look Benjy in the eye. I don't happen to view my virginity as a problem." 

"Nah, nothing like that. Your furry little problem." 

"You make it sound like I have an out of control rabbit hidden under my bed." 

"Oh stop with your sarcasm and come on, Moony. We have something to show you," James admonished, practically dragging Remus down the corridor and to a door which Remus was quite sure had never been there before. 

"What's this?" he asked as James shoved him through the door into a large, tall ceilinged room, completely devoid of all furniture. He looked to his left and let out a shriek as a large dog bounded up to him, licking his face enthusiastically. 

"You got me a badly trained dog?" 

The dog let out a pitiful whine, rolling onto its back. Remus could swear it was grinning at him. He turned to look for James and let out another yelp as a huge stag walked towards him. For some reason, the stag also seemed to have a pet rat. 

"James what the fuck is going on?!" he shouted at the room, instantly regretting it when the stag made a huffing noise. Maybe the dog would protect him from the bloody thing. He was rather worried it would trample him. 

"We're animagi!" Sirius' voice announced from behind him. Remus whirled around, facing Sirius, who was still lolling on the floor like the great black dog he'd been moments before. 

"That's illegal!" 

"Ah keep your hair on, Moony! It means we can be with you on the full. You know, keep the wolf company, maybe stop him from taking chunks out of you," Sirius said, propping himself up on his elbows. 

"I'll hurt you," Remus protested, spinning around to look at James and Peter, who had transformed back into their human selves. 

James laughed. "Nah, werewolves aren't interested in animals. And they can't turn them. We don't think, anyway. Not from anything we read." 

"But…wait, all three of you became animagi, for me?" 

For him. For Remus. The monster, the broken, damaged werewolf. His friends had broken the law and performed magic far exceeding their skill level for him. Just got him. 

"Of course we did. We want to help you, Moony," Peter said, smiling at him. 

"And we can have really cool nicknames now! You're Moony, Peter's Wormtail, Sirius is Padfoot, and I'm Prongs!" 

Remus couldn't stop laughing. The names were ridiculous and over the top and so very obvious. And it made them perfect. 

It transpired that all the wolf had really needed to be happy - or at least as happy as a rabid, murderous beast could be - was a pack to run with, and the freedom to explore. Remus remembered little of any full moon, and the first with his friends by his side was equally lost to werewolf amnesia, as he called it, but when he woke, tired and bruised and oh so very sore, he found he had only one new injury which, after closer examination and a sheepish confession, turned out to be from Peter biting him when he had nearly stepped on him. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus' first time, many times.

That was the thing about alcohol - it so often led to ill-advised, but oh so fun, decisions. 

Remus was not a big drinker. He didn't like the loss of control, and certainly didn't enjoy blacking out as much as Sirius seemed to. He would normally enjoy a pint or two, and then content himself with spliffs, watching the others become more and more raucous until he eventually ferried them into bed and ate a sandwich in peace. 

Tonight, however, alcohol was on the cards. Inconveniently, the full fell this year in the Christmas holidays. Remus had tried to insist that he could return home to his family farm - after all, there was still the cellar where he'd spent all his transformations prior to Hogwarts, and still spent them over the summer - but Sirius would hear none of it. He also insisted it would be nice to have company over the break, as James and Peter were returning home, and he could think of nothing worse than seeing his mother. 

"Her face is enough to ruin even the whitest, brightest of Christmases, Moony!" Sirius declared, sloshing firewhiskey down his front. 

Remus frowned. He knew that Sirius' family were particularly vile, but the absolute vitriol Sirius directed towards them had ramped up since they had returned to school for fifth year. Never one to pry, Remus had to believe something significant had happened over the break, irreparably damaging the family bond. 

"Drink up, Moons! This stuff was an arse to get hold of. You know Rosmerta doesn't take to my flirting so I had to go to the Hogs Head, of all places. And while that barman does respond to my flirting, it's not something I relish in." 

Remus dutifully drank some of his dram of whiskey, wincing as the liquid burned his throat. It was painful, thinking about Sirius flirting with other people. More so when he flirted with other men. Sirius never seemed to realise just how precious he was, and hearing how he threw himself away over some frankly horrible booze was more than Remus could take sober. 

"You don' hafta do it, you know. Sleep with everyone who is amin-amino-amminni-receptive to your charms," Remus slurred after his third glass of booze, amber eyes lazily focused on Sirius, who frowned and swayed slightly. "I jus' mean...fuck...Nid yn unig yn brydferth ond hefyd yn berson rhyfeddol." 

"Pardon?" Sirius said with a laugh, scooting a bit closer to Remus. "That was Welsh," he clarified. "Which I don't speak." 

Remus felt the tips of his ears turn red. This was why he didn't drink. English was the language he spoke most of the time, but Welsh was his first language, and, stubbornly, his brain liked to remind him of this fact when he was drunk. 

"I think I get the gist though, Moons," Sirius said, voice low. Remus blinked, meeting his eyes. His beautiful dark grey eyes. The look he was giving him was almost predatory, and Remus swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. 

"Pads, what -" 

He was cut off as Sirius' mouth crashed into his. Quite embarrassingly he let out a low, loud moan as Sirius' large hands tangled themselves in his curly hair, tugging him closer, deepening the kiss. 

Cigarettes, whiskey, and something sweet but vaguely spicy - like the snacks that James' mum had sent him from India, Bombay Mix he'd called it. This was especially evident when Sirius' tongue found its way into his mouth. Remus was sure it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. 

Sirius' right hand remained curled in his hair, his left moving to Remus' waist, then down, to the small of his back, fingers teasing across the waistband of his jeans, tickling the bare skin exposed by his jumper riding up. 

Remus broke the kiss with a small yelp as Sirius decided that sliding his hand into Remus' trousers to grab his arse was his next move, looking at Sirius in shock. He was grinning. And his hand was still decidedly in his trousers. 

"Sirius, what -" 

"Oh shut up Moons and don't overthink this. I'll make sure you enjoy yourself." The feral grin on Sirius' face made Remus want to melt. 

"And if you want me to stop at any time just say," Sirius whispered in his ear, teeth nipping at his lobe and triggering another embarrassing moan.

This was the theme of the holiday. They would drink, snog, go a little further each time until Remus let out an embarrassed little whine that Sirius seemed to understand, and then fall asleep curled up together. 

To his credit, Sirius never pushed things. Never made Remus think too much - actually, it was impossible to think with his lips on his mouth, his neck, his chest, his cock - and, thank Merlin, never made him discuss what it meant. 

For Remus' part, despite having been in love with Sirius for the better part of a year and a half, he tried desperately not to get attached. Sirius didn't do relationships. Far too conventional, or boring, or whatever other caveat that Remus filled in for the silences. And Remus, of course, didn't do relationships, because what would a being as beautiful - and there really was no other word that did him justice - want with a broken, scarred thing like Remus? 

Still, the nights were appreciated, even if, Remus sternly told himself in the sober light of day, they were a mere experimentation for Sirius. Especially the night before the full moon, when Remus discovered that the overwhelming pleasure of being utterly consumed by another human being cancelled out the normal ache and itch in his bones. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sirius commits the ultimate act of betrayal.

Betrayal is worse than death. Worse, especially, when one should have seen it coming, and when the betrayal comes from someone one loves. Someone one loves completely, secretly, and unconditionally. 

It was quiet in the hospital wing. Sunlight streaming through the blinds woke Remus, instead of the chatter of his friends. Instantly he knew something had happened. Something bad. 

He turned, eyes already swimming with tears, to face a solemn James and quiet Peter. No Sirius. Sirius is always first to talk. Always first there. Madam Pomfrey once told him it was sweet, his boyfriend demanding entry to the hospital wing as soon as the sun had risen. Not that Sirius was his boyfriend. A friend with whom he'd shared perhaps more than one should, with a mere friend, but not a boyfriend. Something nebulous in between. 

"What did I do?" he managed to choke out, tears rolling down his face. He can feel the cuts on his cheeks stinging as the salty evidence of his terror hits them. Even the wolf had been ashamed of what he'd done - his body is more damaged than it has been since his friends had started to join him. 

"No, no, Remus. You didn't do anything. It's okay." James' soft voice is almost melodic, Remus realises. Soothing and gentle, how a mother would speak to a scared child. 

"Where's Padfoot?" 

Peter and James looked at each other, nervous and scared. Remus must have done something terrible. In a fit of worry and guilt Remus dragged himself out of bed, nearly collapsing as he ripped the curtain aside, looking to the other beds, heart thumping in his chest. Empty. Blessedly empty. 

"Mr. Lupin! Lay down!" Madam Pomfrey admonished, and it was all Remus could do as his legs gave way and James and Peter caught him, helping him back into the bed. 

James drew the curtain and Peter scuttled off to placate the irate nurse. "James, please…what did I do? Where's Sirius?" 

His gut felt like it was twisted, knotted. The smell of the toast let out for him made him heave, and he was worried he would vomit straight into James' lap. 

"Remus…you didn't…you didn't do anything," James whispered, brushing his curls back from his forehead. His hand felt cool against his burning skin. "Sirius. Sirius is an idiot. A complete cunt." 

Remus blinked, swallowed down his comment. James never spoke like that about anyone. Not unless they had done something exceedingly evil. 

"He…fuck, Rem, I don't know how to say this. I'm just going to say it. He told Snivellus about you. Well, sent him to find you. Luckily he came to his fucking senses and told me what he'd done. I caught the greasy fucker before he could get hurt. But he saw you. Dumbledore knows. He's sorting it. But - "

"But Sirius used me as a weapon," Remus said, voice flat. The man he loved. The man that he spent nearly every night with, who nursed him back to health every month - the man who claimed to have left his pureblood prejudice behind him - had used him how werewolves had been used for centuries before. 

Inside, Remus felt like he was being torn apart. Felt like his entire world had been turned on its axis, like he was falling, and any moment now he would crash into the earth at terminal velocity and die, a red smear all that was left to remind everyone of what he had been. 

On the outside, he was eerily calm. He tried to scowl, to shout, to cry, to hysterically declare Sirius dead to him, but found all he could do was sit quietly in the hospital wing bed. The sheets were scratchy, he decided. Not like the silk sheets Sirius had bought with him and kitted his bed out with. They smelt of astringent antiseptic, not the soft, floral fragrance of Sirius' shampoo. 

He wondered if he'd ever smell that again. 

"Mate, he was completely out of order. I've told him as much. He wanted to come and see you, but I told him to fuck off. I am so angry with him. You haven't done anything wrong. If you don't ever forgive him I won't either." 

James' voice was urgent, earnest. Remus registered that he was vaguely surprised by this outburst of loyalty. It had always been JamesandSirius, with himself and Peter almost seen as the tag alongs. Of course, at night there was a different dynamic, but it didn't mean enough to Sirius to make it public. 

"I'm tired, James. Do you mind?" 

James shook his head, warm hand on Remus' shoulder. "Of course, Moony. We'll be back later. Got a big bar of chocolate with your name on it." 

In the silence of the hospital wing Remus found himself once again wishing that Greyback would have finished him off. What justice was there in a world where someone as broken and destroyed as him could find someone who seemed to return his affection, at least physically, and where that someone would commit the ultimate act of betrayal? 

Remus fell into a fitful sleep. As promised, James returned with chocolate. But it didn't taste right. It felt like the colour and light had been sucked out of the world. He wondered if it would ever return


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus finds his soul mate. Warning: Sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't speak Welsh. So Google translate is to blame for any errors.

Remus wasn't all that sure exactly how or why he'd ended up in the West End bar. It had been James' idea, as all stupid, but somehow convincing, ideas seemed to be. 

"He's a good bloke, Moons! He could be the one. You two are perfect for each other." 

Remus thought James had become insufferable since Lily had finally given in to his relentless requests for a date. Like he was a love guru or something. When he'd told him as much, James had laughed, waggled his eyebrows, and started spouting ridiculous snippets of 'wisdom' in what would have been a horrendously racist Indian accent were it not for the fact that Euphemia was, in fact, from India. 

"Your mum would hit you round the head with her shoe if she heard your terrible impression of your kinsfolk, Prongs," Sirius had drawled, cigarette dangling lazily between his fingers. 

The matter of Sirius was still something Remus had not managed to fully sort out. Months of grovelling had finally convinced Remus that his friend truly was sorry for his unforgivable act, but he found himself insistent that their nightly adventures must stop. There was only so much heartbreak a man could take. They'd slipped into a slightly uncomfortable friendship, making sure never to be alone. 

Sirius did not seem to be bothered by this. Sirius was so rarely bothered by anything, Remus had found. His sex life certainly hadn't suffered, where as Remus had found himself completely stranded, alone, unable to even fathom letting someone else see him so vulnerable. 

Thus this blind date. He'd only agreed to it because Lily agreed he could shave James' head if it all went to shit. James had gone very white at this suggestion and started muttering under his breath, but to his credit had not let up on his insistence that the bloke he'd found was perfect. 

Sipping his overpriced beer - nearly a pound a pint, for Merlin's sake - Remus wondered why in the world James would think Remus' perfect man would enjoy a swanky West End bar over one of their usual haunts in Camden or Shoreditch. Still, the music was quiet, so he supposed it would be a good place to have a chat. 

"Remus?" 

Remus felt his stomach clench, heart freeze. He knew that voice. He turned, and was faced with the gorgeous, breathtaking, absolutely infuriating site of Sirius. Dark eyeliner, hair loose around his shoulders, and wearing what Remus was sure was a woman's silky blouse, unbuttoned to a level that was almost obscene. 

"I'm going to shave his head and then I'm going to murder him and throw his ugly corpse in the Thames," Remus ground out, trying desperately not to drool over Sirius' exposed collar bones. Or think of how much he'd like to bite them. Cover them in marks and show everyone he belonged to him.

He stood up, ready to leave. To go home and cry himself to sleep into his pillow. This wasn't fair. 

"Rem please, don't go," Sirius said, voice pleading. It's not a tone he's used to hearing Sirius plead for anything, and he stops, sighs, and sits back down, hands wrapping around his half empty pint glass. 

They remain staring at each other for a moment in silence until Remus lets out a frustrated huff. "Fine. I'll give you an hour. For whatever game this is. But can we please go somewhere else?" 

Sirius smiled. Smiles so broadly it looks like his face will split in too, and Remus feels his stomach lurch dangerously. 

"Absolutely. I hate this place. Only agreed to it because James said it was nice." 

"He's a git." 

"True." 

An apparation later and they were in much more familiar territory, a beer garden in Camden. Sirius fiddled with a cig, lighting it eventually and taking three nervous, frantic drags. 

"So? Care to explain what this is all about? Some elaborate prank cooked up between you and James?" Remus snaps, drinking his much more reasonably priced pint. 

Sirius looks up at him, shaking his head. "No. Not at all. Remus I…I miss you." 

"You see me every day." 

"It's not the same." 

It's not the same. Of course it's not the same! What sort of idiot would Remus be if he let it be the same again? Hurt him once, shame on you, hurt him twice - well, then he's the idiot, isn't he? 

"Rem, please say something." 

"Say something? Okay, I'll say something. You betrayed me. You got what you wanted out of me - the gay experience or whatever the fuck it was, and then you tried to use me to kill someone. You nearly made me into even more of a monster than I already am! Then I forgive you and it's like that other shit never happened. Like you never - - Of course things aren't the fucking same!" Remus found himself shouting, regretting letting himself get into this situation. 

"Twat wyt ti a dwi'n idiot a beth yw'r uffern rydw i hyd yn oed yn ei wneud yma?! Dylwn i eich casáu chi ac rydw i'n ffycin llwyr mewn cariad â chi!" 

"That was Welsh again…" Sirius said, smiling weakly. "But Rem… Wait...just…" 

Sirius rustled around in his pocket for a moment, pulling out a dog eared piece of paper. He cleared his throat, meeting Remus' cold gaze. Fuck, it was hard to stay angry when those eyes were looking at you like that.

"Remus. Rwy'n idiot mawr. Mae'n wir ddrwg gen i. Rwy'n dy garu di." 

Remus felt like his heart was about to explode out of his chest. Sirius loved him. His Welsh accent was shit, but he loved him. 

"I don't believe you," Remus replied flatly. Sirius loved everything and nothing at all. He was just a passing fancy. 

"Stop being a twat, Remus. I love you. Romantically. Platonically. Uncompromisingly. I love you. I can't stop thinking about you. I just want you. And if you don't want me, fine, just put me out of my misery. But I love you, and I can't stop. You didn't think that all those nights meant nothing, did you?"

"You're a dramatic little shit, you know that?" 

"Remus! Please!" 

Remus decided he liked hearing Sirius beg. He also liked him all dolled up, just for him. 

"What, Sirius? What was I meant to think? You change partners more often than you change your socks, which is disgusting. You flit around, looking like that, leaving a wake of broken hearts in your wake and you have no idea, no idea at all that you're doing it. You say you love me but - "

Remus was cut off by Sirius kissing him. Really kissing him. Hands all over him. He gasped, completely forgetting that he was meant to be telling him off, and kissed him back, hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. 

Somehow they ended up back at the cottage in Wales, managing to sneak in without Remus' da hearing them, ending up a mess of tangled limbs on Remus' single bed. 

Their clothes were haphazardly shed, thrown across the small room. Remus had to bite into Sirius' shoulder to stop himself from moaning as Sirius took him in his hand. This just made Sirius let out a low, needy whine, which Remus decided was his new favourite sound. 

Lay flat down on the bed, Remus looked up at Sirius. Gorgeous Sirius, with his eyeliner smeared now, eyes blow with lust, lips red from kissing. He felt like if he died now he'd be happy, just to have had the experience of Sirius above him like that, looking at him like that. 

"I love you," Sirius whispered, hands on either side of Remus' face as he pulled him in for a kiss, slow and needy and longing. And Remus believed him this time. Believed it as Sirius shifted above him, slowly, teasingly lowering himself onto his cock and thoroughly removing Remus' last vestiges of virginity. 

Remus came with embarrassing speed, screaming out Sirius' name before he could stop himself. Sirius followed in quick succession, Remus' name on his lips as he covered his stomach in spunk. 

He collapsed onto him, hugging him close, kissing him deeply, whispering feverishly to him how much he loved him, what an idiot he was, how he was never letting him go. 

"Fuck, we really should have used a silencing charm," Remus muttered between kisses and praise, resulting in Sirius letting out a bark like laugh. 

"Did it as soon as we got into the room. Wandless magic, innit?" 

"I love you, Sirius Black."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang are leaving Hogwarts and Remus is very unsure about the future.

All things must come to an end. Hogwarts, his home for the last 7 years, the place where he'd met and made his friends his family, was going to be nothing more than a memory. 

Sure, he had asked Dumbledore about the potential for a teaching position, even an assistant position. After the war. Because there would be a war, that much was clear. But he doubted very much there would be a professorship afterwards, despite the man replying, with kind, twinkling blue eyes "We shall see." 

As such, Remus was less than hopeful about the future. If he didn't get killed by lunatic mad men promoting blood purity he was likely to find himself living at home until his parents became bored of him. 

James and Sirius, of course, were elated to be starting their adult life in earnest, despite Sirius' plan for him and James to share a flat being well and truly scuppered by James announcing Lily had agreed they could live together. Sirius, for his part, took this remarkably well, only sulking for 3 days before declaring that he, too, would choose blowjobs on demand over his own company, winking at Remus. 

Remus knew better than to take it as an invitation for them to live together. He knew he couldn't contribute to the rent or mortgage on the kind of place Sirius had his heart set on and besides, despite Sirius' often very loud public declarations of love for him, Remus was unsure how domesticated his boyfriend was willing to be. 

Beer and whiskey was flowing on their last night, having been purloined by a very industrious Marlene McKinnon and her girlfriend, Dorcas. They were also moving in with each other, Remus noted with some mild resentment. It seemed everyone had a plan but him. 

"So, what's everyone's plans then?" James asked, cheeks flushed pink from booze and a snogging session with Lily. 

"Well, we've got a little flat we're going to be renting up in Chester. It's pokey as anything but there is a spot under the window that's just right for a vase, so I can make sure we always have something bright in our lives," Marlene said, hand twisting in Dorcas'. "I've got a job up there with the Ministry, and Dorcas is going to be trying to make her paintings a viable business." 

"And working in a pub, because I don't think I'll make that much," Dorcas added, shaking her head. Remus didn't think her pessimism was necessary. Her art was beautiful. 

"I'll be moving back in with mum and gran," Peter said a little glumly, sipping his beer. "But I reckon I've got a shot at that interview at Gringotts. Hopefully I'll be able to save a bit and move out." 

"No one in their right mind should leave you in charge of their money, Wormy!" James teased, earning himself a thwack upside the head from Lily. 

Remus suddenly realised everyone was looking at him. Waiting for him to expound upon his grand plans. He felt a bit sick. He didn't have anything planned. Because what could he plan? 

"I need the loo," Remus said instead of voicing his concerns, standing on slightly shaky legs and walking into the toilets. He looked at himself in the mirror, all long limbs and floppy, curly hair. Objectively he was, perhaps, not all that bad looking. But nothing compared to Sirius. 

His drunken self pity was reaching new, dizzying heights when Sirius burst into the shared bathroom, putting an arm around his shoulders. 

"Spiralling, are we?" he asked, smirk on his lips. 

"Shut up."

"Come on, Moons. It's a new chapter of our lives! It's exciting!" 

"Maybe for you." 

Remus was even starting to depress himself. Merlin's tits, looking at the two of them in the smudged mirror really did highlight how much too good Sirius was for him. Tall, broad, gorgeous, rich, talented - the only thing Remus seemed to offer to the relationship was the ability to make beans on toast without setting the kitchen on fire. 

"If you're worrying again about what you offer me, I can give you a list. In order of my favourite." 

"Shut up, Pads." 

"Number one, your complete lack of politeness towards me. I really do relish being told to shut up. Number two, your amazing dick. Number three, your gorgeous mouth. Number four, how secretly buff you are under those ridiculous grandad jumpers." 

Sirius' hands had begun to creep under his jumper, which, Remus thought, was not too grandadish. A pleasant warmth was spreading through his body, goosebumps following in the wake of Sirius' teasing fingers. 

"Number five, how responsive you are. Number six -" 

"I think I get your point, Pads." 

Sirius beamed at him, kissing him softly on the cheek. 

"By the way, keep next Tuesday free." 

"Why, what's happening next Tuesday?" 

"Flat hunting." 

"Why do you need me there?" 

Sirius chuckled, tugging Remus towards him, into a deep kiss. "Be pretty rude of me not to get your input on our first home, wouldn't it?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day drinking and sex. A fluffy chapter before the angst.

Things change so quickly, it's like you blink and it's all different. 

"Pregnant?! She's pregnant?! Prongs is having a baby?!" Sirius ranted, pacing up and down the open plan living room of their flat. Remus groaned, entering the room with two cups of tea. 

"Pads, sit down. You'll wear out the carpet." 

They'd been living together since they'd finished school, as Sirius had promised. They'd managed to find a flat that suited them both, after a lot of good natured and some not so good natured bickering. It was in Camden, of course, but Remus had managed to convince him that a two bed flat was sufficient, and that they didn't need to spend Uncle Alphard's inheritance on a 6 bed maisonette. It was nice to have savings, and it meant that the pittance Remus managed to scrape together every month was more or less just spent on beer. 

"They can't have a baby! This is ridiculous! We're at war, Moony! War!" Sirius flopped down on the orange sofa, sniffing at the tea he handed him. "You got any whiskey to add to this?" 

"It's 10am, Sirius." 

"Remus," Sirius said, leaning forward and looking at him intently. "We are fighting a war against a madman. Our best friend has failed to avoid the inevitable march of biology. We're so young, Remus. If ever there was a reason for daytime drinking, it was this!" 

Remus conceded that his boyfriend may have a point. And anyway, it was easier to go along with Sirius' plans if at all possible. Otherwise one would simply be pestered to death and have to endure one of his epic sulks. 

Half a bottle of fire whiskey later, tea half drunk and cold, Sirius was laying across Remus' lap, sighing dramatically. Remus felt very pleasantly drunk and warm, his fingers carding through Sirius' soft dark locks. 

"Remmy, do you want babies?" Sirius slurred, looking up at him with wide grey eyes. Remus froze. What sort of question was that? 

"I sort of lack the necessary equipment for that, Pads," he teased, trying to keep his voice light. 

"Pft," Sirius huffed, waving his hand dismissively. "Marlene said she'd have a baby for me. For us. If we wanted to. Her and Dorcas want a baby. Everyone wants babies. Do you?" 

Those eyes staring into him again. 

"Siri, we're young. I'm not even 20 yet. No rush, is there?" 

His boyfriend shrugged. "Yeah but we could all die tomorrow. Don't want you to regret this. Us." 

Remus smiled at this. Behind the tough scruffy punk exterior Sirius was a softy. If he loved someone he loved them with everything. 

"Do you want babies, Siri?" 

Sirius grinned at him. "Only if I can have them with you," he answered. 

"I could never regret us. I love you. You're incredible. I don't even know how I ended up with you."

"Your arse!" 

"What?" Remus spluttered, nearly knocking Sirius off of his lap. 

"Oi watch it!" Sirius screeched, managing to catch himself before he fell. "You've got a fantastic arse, Moony. I can't lie about it. It's so very very perfect." 

Remus blushed and Sirius laughed, propping himself up on his elbows. "You're also very cute, which I'm sure you know. And I love you."

Before Remus could protest this conclusion, Sirius kissed him, slightly sloppily thanks to the alcohol. Remus found himself melting into the touch, like he always did. Sirius just did something to him. 

The taller boy straddled Remus, hands tangled in his curls, tugging ever so softly and making him whine. Remus could feel him moving against him, their hips tight together. Sirius nipped at his lower lip, one hand sliding down from his hair along his back, under the waistband of his jeans. 

"Tease," Remus growled against his mouth, causing Sirius to laugh prettily at him, eyes glittering. 

"Mmm, always." 

Remus decided, in his drunken haze, that this insolence could not be tolerated, and, after a few awkward manoeuvres and nearly dropping him twice, managed to flip Sirius over onto his back on the sofa, pinning him down. 

"Cheeky bugger," he growled, leaning down and kissing him again. Sirius grinned, wiggling against him, and Remus pushed him down harder, starting to kiss down his neck and slowly make his way down his body. "Stay." 

"Yes boss," Sirius said, voice bubbling with mirth. Remus growled again, moving his hands down to unbutton his jeans. Sirius gave a shaky little moan, arching up towards him, helping him shimmy his tight jeans down over his hips. 

Remus grinned, nipping at the soft flesh of his hip bones, thanking whatever Gods might exist that Sirius Black hated the convention of underwear. Sirius jerked his hips up against Remus, bumping his hard cock against Remus' chin. 

"Moony, stop being a prick tease," he moaned, and Remus chuckled before moving down, swallowing down his cock. 

He loved making Sirius come undone. He was so vocal. Swearing and begging and moaning so beautifully as Remus worked him to his climax. 

Sirius grinned down at Remus, tugging on his hair and pulling him back into a kiss. "Your turn," Sirius whispered against his lips, smiling. 

And as Sirius sunk to his knees in front of Remus, looking up at him through those dark, long lashes, Remus decided day drinking was one of the best ideas Sirius had had that weekend. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betrayal, accusations, drinking and death.

Someone once said bad things come in threes. But that year, the bad news just kept rolling in. 

"She's dead." 

Remus looked at Sirius, slumped over the kitchen table. Empty bottles of booze strewn around the flat. He looked like shit. His hair was greasy, his eyes glazed over, heavy black bags beneath them. 

It was a punch to Remus' gut, seeing Sirius like this. And he didn't want to ask who she was, because whoever it was, it was someone they loved. 

"Aren't you going to ask who?" 

Last month it had been Dorcas, murdered in the lovely sunny northern flat she shared with Marlene. Place blasted to smithereens. The jug that held wild flowers - fresh every week, she'd insisted - shattered on the floor next to her body. Remus had been there when Marlene found out. When her whole world went black. 

"Who?" 

His voice was barely more than a whisper. A chroak that filled the room. 

"Marlene. Fucking Marlene. And her parents. And Faye. Gone." 

Sirius looked up at him, bloodshot eyes. "Werewolf attack. Shredded. Nothing left of them but viscera." 

He was crying, Remus realised. And Remus felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Werewolf attack. Fuck. That meant it had been four days before they'd been found. Or before Sirius had found out. 

"Pads, I'm sorry. I know you and Marlene were close. Fuck." 

Sirius squinted up at Remus, shaking his head. 

"We're losing, Rem. We're fucking losing. Prewitt twins - gone. Dorcas - gone. Marlene - gone. Caradoc - gone. Benji - gone. Gone gone gone." 

Remus sunk down heavily next to Sirius at the table, wrapping his arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. Sirius let out a heaving sob, burying his face his Remus' shirt. The grief was so fresh. So fresh every time they lost someone new. They barely had time to recover each time. 

"Lily and James and Harry…" 

"Safe, as far as we know. But we've got a spy, Rem. Someone. Someone is telling them where to find us. What we're up to." 

Sirius had become more and more obsessed with the spy theory with each passing month, with each death. Their numbers were dwindling - there were only so many people left. And none of them could be the spy, in Remus' mind. It seemed to him the Death Eaters simply outnumbered them all. 

"What are they going to do? About staying safe?" 

Sirius looked up from his place in Remus' t-shirt, eyes narrowed. "Dunno. No one does, do they? They've gone underground." 

"So you don't know?" 

Sirius glared at him, shoving him away. "I've told you already I don't. Fucking hell, Remus. Why do you always push?" 

Remus held his hands up, trying to de-escalate the situation. It would do no good. Sirius was in a mood. 

"I was just trying to figure out -" 

He wanted to say 'how I could help', but was interrupted by Sirius giving a bark of laughter. 

"Figure out where they are? So you can turn them in?" 

Remus' stomach dropped. Now standing, his fists clenched at his sides, he glared right back at Sirius. 

"What are you implying?" 

"I don't know,  _ Moony _ . What am I implying? Where the hell have you been, anyway? And don't say  _ 'on a mission for Dumbledore'  _ because these nebulous fucking missions keep turning up and you never tell me where you're going!" Sirius was panting now, fists balled in a mirror image of Remus. He was anger and fire, pent up paranoia. 

"I can't tell you, Sirius. You know that." 

"Or you don't want to!" 

"You think I'm the spy? Fucking hell, Sirius, are you high?" 

"Well, it was a werewolf attack. And where were you? Come to think of it, I don't think you've been home during any of the attacks. What, did he promise you werewolf rights?" 

"You're drunk. And an arsehole. I'm leaving," Remus snapped, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair and heading for the door. 

"Yeah, well, don't bother coming back!" 

It was the last time Remus saw Sirius before that fateful Halloween. When his heart was shattered all over again, by the same beautiful man he'd loved since he was 14. The one accused of betraying them all.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius is in Azkaban, and Remus is hauled in for questioning.

Remus discovered that it was, apparently, possibly for you to die without dying. It didn't make a lot of sense, but the colour left the world when Sirius left his. 

  


"What, exactly, was the nature of your relationship with Black?" 

  


The words spin around in his head as he grips the lukewarm cup of tea. The Aurors before him looking at him with badly disguised disdain and judgement. Of course they would - he's a werewolf, they know that from the registry requirements, and he has, until the events of a few weeks ago, been shacked up with Great Britain's most notorious murderer. 

  


Remus still couldn't believe it. Still couldn't believe the man he's known since he was 11 would be capable of such a thing. The man who rescued mice from cats - "It wouldn't be right not to, Moons! They are basically Wormtail's cousins!" - and who bought him cups of tea and nursed him back to health after the full moon. 

  


But it was true. He had been capable of it. Street blown to smithereens, Peter - fucking hell, Peter - dead. James and Lily, killed because he betrayed their secret. Perhaps it had been stupid to think Sirius could change. That he could escape the fate laid out to him by virtue of being a Black. That kind of inherited evil didn't wash off quite so easily, it seemed. 

  


"Mr Lupin. Answer the question." A snippy command from the small, blonde woman sat opposite him. Remus thought she looked rather like a ferret. Or a weasel. 

  


"We were friends. Flatmates. Were. We had a falling out - two days before…" 

  


Before his world was shattered and everything became pointless. Dumbledore wouldn't even let him see Harry. "It's for the best, Remus." Sending Harry to live with his crazy, boring Muggle aunt and uncle. He'd met Petunia once - at some party or another James and Lily had invited him to. How a woman as kind and warm, as exceptional and as brilliant as Lily could have a sister as dour and resentful as Petunia he didn't know. 

  


"Friends." The word was heavy with skepticism and sarcasm, and caused the little blonde witch to laugh unattractively. Remus noticed she had dark fillings in the back of her mouth. Likely muggle born then. "Oh, we had heard you and Black were more than merely friends." 

  


But how could one describe what Sirius had been to Remus - still was, thanks to his ridiculous heart refusing to let go. How could one explain what it felt like to have half of your soul ripped away, leaving you feeling raw and broken and bloody? 

  


"We were friends." And lovers. And partners. And soulmates. We were going to be parents - but so were Marlene and Dorcas. So were Lily and James - a whole Quidditch team of kids planned for the future, plans to give Harry the huge family that James had never had. 

  


The blonde opened her mouth to say something, but her large counterpart - Sleeman, Remus thought his name might have been, but he couldn't quite find it in himself to care - got there first. 

  


"Nothing illegal about being gay, son," he said, although the look on his face made it seem like he thought their should be. 

  


"I should think not," Remus snapped before he could remind himself he was meant to be keeping quiet. "But planning to murder your best friends isn't something you talk about between shags, homosexual or not." 

  


The man sneered at him, lip curling in disgust. Well, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. Remus could join Sirius on the godforsaken rock in the middle of the ocean and shove him into the icy water to finish the job. Scream at him and ask him why he did it - how he could have done it? 

  


A rap of knuckles on the door startled all three of them, and Remus resisted the urge to spin around, to see what fresh hell had come to curse him now. 

  


Mad Eye strode into the room, giving Remus a look which he thought might be pity. If it was, the tweedle dee and tweedle dumb, as he had decided to name the Aurors in his head, didn't notice. They hopped up like their arses had been set on fire. 

  


"Boy's innocent. Was out in Wales the night it happened," Mad Eye said gruffly, grabbing a handful of Remus' jacked and yanking him to his feet. "Come on, Lupin. You need some breakfast." 

  


"But sir -" started the small witch, only to be shut down by a glare. 

  


"Kilroy, are you in charge of this investigation?" 

  


"No, sir."

  


"Then I suggest you shut up. Come on, Lupin. Breakfast. You and I need to have a chat." 

  


And so Remus was rescued from a life in Azkaban, but really, without Sirius, without James and Lily and Peter, it was like his shadow was a dementor. Happiness had no meaning. And so he didn't argue when Alastor suggested he leave the country. "Just until things calm down, lad." He was sure he heard a hint of weary sadness in the man's voice as he said it, but if he had, neither let on. 

  



	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adventures in Prague, and Remus goes home.

Strange how life seems to carry on with no regard for how you feel about the matter. 

Life was certainly carrying on. '82 turned to '83 turned to '84, and before he knew it, Remus was in a bar, watching people ring in the second half of the decade. 

The bar was run down, paid employees sporadically, and was owned by someone who may or may not have been a hag. Remus didn't ask questions. He was happy to have a job in a place where people didn't want anything but a pint and a place to drown their sorrows. 

New Year didn't mean anything for him now. He wasn't even working that evening, but he didn't know where else to go. Indeed, he didn't have anywhere else to go, or anywhere else to go there with. He'd been in the outskirts of Prague for the past three months. It was probably time to move on soon, but the rent was cheap, the beer tended to be free, and he didn't have any reminders of what he'd lost here. 

But his mother was ill. He should go back and see her. But last time he'd been there they'd spent a few days in a bubble of polite fragility, everyone choosing their words so carefully, and walking on eggshells. Once he'd left he'd been exhausted from all the pretending. 

"Oh, you look so sad for such a pretty young lad." 

Remus turned, eyebrows raised. Not only was English not a language he was used to hearing, the affected London accent took him by surprise. It reminded him of nights out in Soho, with posh banker types pretending they were boys of the street. 

"Gilderoy, and you?" the stranger said, sticking his hand out to shake Remus'. 

Remus shook his hand gingerly, as if he was worried the stranger's hand might combust. "Remus," he grunted in response, downing the rest of his drink. 

The man was attractive in a conventional way. Blond wavy hair, blue eyes, lean, and just a little shorter than Remus. Completely different from Sirius. Not a single similarity, except for the fact he was male. 

"Well, Remi, would you care to dance?" the blond asked him, flashing him a winning smile. 

"It's Remus. And you're alright. I'll let you buy me a drink though." 

The next morning, while sneaking out of the first floor flat of the man he'd shagged the night before, Remus considered the tragedy that his life had become. Gilderoy. He was a pompous twat and shit at sex to boot. Only concerned with his own orgasm. Not to mention that Remus kept comparing him to Sirius. Not that there was any comparison. None at all. 

He kicked a mound of slushy snow, instantly regretting it as the hole in his boot let in a large amount of moisture in, soaking his sock. Fuck. He needed to go home. To see his mum. And arrange things with his da. 

Three days later he found himself sitting in his childhood home, knees tucked up as his mother, pale and thin, with shaking hands, offered him tea and barabrith and boney hugs. It was all he could do to keep himself from crying. Her once vibrant, auburn brown hair was dull, brittle and lackluster, and her skin, previously tanned and freckled from being out in all weathers, was sallow and pale. 

"I'm glad you came, Cariad," Hope said, her voice hoarse and soft. Remus nodded, gripping his cup tighter. 

"It won't be long now. Maybe you could stay. I've missed you."

The words cut through him like a knife. It was like someone was cutting his heart out with a blunt sword, hacking away at his rib cage painfully. 

"Mum, don't…" He could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, his voice sticking in his throat. 

Hope stroked his arm softly and he crumbled, sobbing into her shoulder as he had as a child. 

"Oh, my love, I love you so very much," Hope whispered, stroking his hair, starting to sing to him in Welsh, voice soft and lilting. Remus felt himself relaxing, still sobbing, letting all the grief and pain and hatred he'd pent up inside himself since Sirius had left pour out of him. 

It wasn't long, as she'd said. Hope Lupin was rarely wrong, and she passed away on a sunny January morning. Remus threw snowdrops into her grave, wanting nothing more than to jump into that hole with her. 

But there were affairs to sort and his da to manage. His alcoholism was threatening to come back in full force, and Remus spent most of the wake making sure that he didn't kill himself with whiskey. He wasn't sure he could handle two funerals in one month. 

His father safely passed out on the sofa, wrapped in one of his mother's cardigans, Remus slumped up the stairs to his childhood bedroom. He sat down on the stairs, staring at the half open wardrobe. There, hanging in the closet, was an oversized hoodie. An oversized hoodie that Sirius had given him. That Sirius had worn. That probably still smelled of him. 

He stood, as if in a trance, and wrapped himself in it, collapsing onto the bed, and cried himself to sleep, the faint scent of Sirius surrounding him.


End file.
